


the leaves in autumn

by orphan_account



Category: Pentagon (Korea Band)
Genre: Friends to Enemies to Lovers, M/M, Minor Character Death
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-13
Updated: 2017-09-13
Packaged: 2018-12-27 17:22:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12085728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: In the two years Changgu spends away, Hyunggu changes.Loosely based on the narratives between Changgu and Hyunggu in the 'Pretty Pretty' and 'Like This' music videos.[discontinued for now]





	the leaves in autumn

**Author's Note:**

> hello! it's my first attempt at writing a pentagon fic. i found it really interesting to see the dynamic between changgu and kino during the pretty pretty and like this mvs, so i imagined up a scenario in which their narratives in those mvs might be joined together.
> 
> please note that this fic is based on the characters in the mvs, not the people themselves. also, the story isn't entirely compliant to the mvs by any means - i was a little creative with it.
> 
> this isn't beta'd and was hastily edited, so hopefully there aren't too many errors!

> _Leaves become most beautiful_  
>  _when they’re about to die_  
>  _when they’re about to fall from trees  
>  _ _when they’re about to dry up._

Time is All Around – Regina Spektor

* * *

_Autumn_

It’s been a long time since Changgu’s walked these paths, but very little about them has changed. The paint on the neighbour’s fence is a little flakier than before and their children have become older and quieter. The lemon tree in the backyard finally bears fruit. Still, for all intents and purposes, this town remains as it was two years ago when Changgu’s family whisked him away overseas.

That may be one reason why meeting Hyunggu again is so very jarring.

* * *

_Autumn, two years ago_

There’s no special reason that Changgu and Hyunggu are friends – they met through drama class and found that they sort of got along, is all. They’re not _best_ friends. Hyunggu doesn’t really seem to have a best friend. His one and only love is dance, as far as Changgu can tell. There’s not a single day that Hyunggu doesn’t head to the studio after the last bell rings, even if the rest of the group made plans to go to the arcade during lunch break. In a way, Hyunggu feels slightly inaccessible.

Today, Changgu’s also missing out on said arcade plans. He has a part in the school play – not a main part, because those always go to the senior students, but he has his fair share of lines – and rehearsals are ramping up in intensity since it’s only a few weeks until the first show. By the time rehearsal finishes, the sun’s about to set and Changgu doesn’t have any thoughts in his mind other than having dinner and collapsing straight onto his bed.

The universe, however, has other plans for him.

“Changgu! Hey!”

Changgu pauses just as he’s about to set foot outside the school entrance and turns to smile at Hyunggu, who’s jogging down the path towards him.

“Hi Hyunggu. Done practicing tonight?”

Hyunggu comes to a halt right in front of him and nods enthusiastically. He really seems to have too much energy for someone who’s spent the entire afternoon dancing. “Yeah, I choreographed something new, so I’m feeling good. Did your rehearsal run late?”

“Mm… no later than I expected. Opening night’s only three weeks from today.”

“Oh, that’s right!” Hyunggu says, grinning. “When do tickets go on sale?”

“In a week – why, are you coming?” Changgu honestly hadn’t thought any of his friends were interested in seeing the play. It’s not like he has a big role and, in any case, he thought most of them would find the whole thing a bore.

“Yup, of course. When you’re a famous actor I’ll have something to brag about right?”

Changgu lets out a flustered laugh. “Hey, there’s flattery and then there’s just plain exaggeration.” But he smiles warmly at Hyunggu anyhow. It’s moments like this, when he meets him alone, that it’s so easy to see why Hyunggu is universally well-liked. As talented and destined for success as Hyunggu is, he’s also the most sincerely supportive person Changgu’s ever encountered.

Hyunggu just shrugs. “We do drama together, Changgu. Anyone can see you’re meant for great things.”

“Funny, I could say the same about you.”

Hyunggu averts his eyes. Changgu’s not certain, but it almost looks as if he’s blushing. “Anyway, I didn’t just run after you to butter you up. I was wondering… if you’d like to hang out for a while?”

Changgu blinks. “Me and you? Right now?” At Hyunggu’s earnest nod, Changgu grins. “Why not?”

* * *

Hyunggu doesn’t explain anything beyond saying, “Trust me, Changgu.” And Changgu does. He’s never spent time alone with Hyunggu outside of school – he doesn’t think many people at their school ever have – but Changgu’s a trusting sort of person and Hyunggu… Hyunggu is easy to trust. He leads the way with confident ease. The leaves that have fallen across the footpaths crunch beneath their feet as they walk.

It’s obvious Hyunggu’s gone this way before, but it’s all unfamiliar to Changgu despite the fact that he’s lived here for years. From what he can tell, they’re heading to the very outskirts of town, taking shortcuts through residential streets. They don’t talk much. But Hyunggu’s content to walk quietly and, funnily enough, so is Changgu.

They eventually end up in a deserted parking lot at the very edge of town that’s bordered by a tall, chain-link fence. Beyond the fence are the hills and forests that overlook the town.

Hyunggu strides purposefully right up to the fence, then sends Changgu a look over his shoulder. “Are you any good at climbing?”

“Well, I don’t think I’m _bad_ at climbing...” Changgu eyes up the fence. He can see where this is going.

“That’s good enough.” With that, Hyunggu scales the fence and drops down on the other side, landing light on his feet. It certainly doesn’t look very hard. Changgu follows at a much more cautious pace, wincing at the impact of the drop. He’s not really built for this stuff.

“You alright?” Hyunggu asks, extending a hand. Changgu stares at it for a moment, then nods and takes it. “I want to show you a place I found after dance practice one day. Follow me.”

It’s maybe ten minutes later that the two of them are standing at the edge of a small cliff that overlooks the town. The roads and buildings spread before them and the streetlights are just starting to wink on. Beyond all that, the sun’s dipping low over the horizon and the sky is a canvas of oranges and pinks that melt into each other.

“It’s probably not really a secret spot,” Hyunggu says, checking Changgu’s reaction out of the corner of his eyes. “I wanted to show you anyway. I thought you might like it here.”

Changgu nods slowly, not taking his eyes off the sunset. It’s true that he’s always been the type to pay attention to scenery, but he doesn’t exactly broadcast the fact at school. “I do. How did you know?”

“I just had a feeling. C’mon, sit down.” Hyunggu, who’s still holding onto Changgu’s wrist, pulls him down so they’re both cross-legged in the grass.

Changgu gives him a sidelong look. “You’re kind of mysterious, you know that?”

“How?”

Changgu scratches the back of his neck. “Most of the guys at school would define hanging out as getting food after school, or messing around at the arcade. But you ask me to hang out even though it’s already evening and then, instead of getting dinner or something, you bring me out of town to sit quietly and admire the view. You’ve got to admit that’s a bit mysterious, right? Oh, and this is the first time we’ve spent time together outside of school, so it’s all very surprising to me.” Hyunggu raises an eyebrow at him and Changgu realises he’s starting to ramble. The tips of his ears heat up and he ducks his head. “Sorry. I talk too much, sometimes.”

“It’s okay. I like it.” When Changgu looks up, Hyunggu’s eyes are sparkling. “You don’t think this is weird though, right?”

“No, of course not!”

Hyunggu nods slowly. “I’m glad. I wasn’t sure if you’d be okay with it or not, but… you’re very kind, you know?”

“Me?” If Changgu’s ears weren’t visibly red before, they definitely are now.

“Yeah.” Hyunggu stretches out his legs and shuffles his feet. “I want to get to know you better. I just haven’t been sure of how to ask you.”

“ _Me_?” Changgu repeats, wondering if he sounds like an idiot. He’s just surprised. He’d thought Hyunggu was a bit too cool for him, even if they’ve sort of been friends for a while.

“Yeah, you.” Hyunggu smiles shyly at the ground. The breeze plays through his hair, sending a couple of strands into his eyes. He swipes them away as he continues to speak. “Will your parents be worried if you’re home late?”

Changgu’s thrown by the sudden change of subject, but he responds anyway. “No, they’ll just assume that practice has gone late.”

“Same with mine. You know, I tell my parents everything except that I come here sometimes instead of going straight home after practice.”

“Wow, really? You don’t hide things?”

“No.” Hyunggu sends Changgu a cheeky grin. “Mostly, no. I don’t see the point in the rebellious teenager shtick. And it doesn’t seem like you do either. You’re such a goody-two-shoes at school.”

Changgu gasps in mock offense. “I’m very rebellious! I came here without telling my parents!”

“It’s only rebellious after the sun goes down, and even then, only a little bit.” Hyunggu yawns and lays back on the grass, stretching his arms out above his head. “It’s okay. We’re both sort of like that. What’s the most rebellious thing you’ve _actually_ done, anyhow?”

“Uhh… I watched a rated movie?”

Hyunggu bursts out laughing. “Wow. Very rebellious.”

“Not only was it rated, but I streamed it illegally,” Changgu tries, knowing that it probably isn’t going to help his case.

“Disgusting – I’m calling the cops.” Hyunggu whips his phone out of his pocket and holds it up to his ear. “Hello, police? I’ve got a criminal for you here. His name’s Changgu and he’s really breaking laws left and right.”

“Okay, but what about you?” Changgu says through a huff of laughter.

“Me? You mean, the most rebellious thing I’ve ever done?” Hyunggu stuffs his phone back into his pocket and taps his chin with a finger. “My parents wanted me to sign up for economics and a foreign language class for electives, but I chose dance and drama. They thought it was ridiculous that I picked dance on top of all the extracurricular dance I do.”

“That’s not rebellious at all! You have no right to make fun of me if that’s all you’ve got,” Changgu says, pointing an accusing finger.

Hyunggu chuckles. “You’re totally right. You’ve got me – I’m all talk.”

They sit quietly for a while, long enough that the sun’s half-obscured behind the horizon.

“Actually, Changgu, I wanted to thank you.” Hyunggu says, sitting up abruptly. His tone is completely serious now, commanding Changgu’s attention.

“Me? What for?” Try as he might, he can’t think of anything in particular that he’s done for Hyunggu that deserves thanks.

“Remember a few weeks back in drama, when we had to pair up to do romantic skits? Only, there’s an uneven number of boys and girls in the class, so I got stuck with…” Hyunggu trails off, scowling.

“Oh.” Changgu does remember the way Hyunggu’s partner had made a scene, complaining loudly to the teacher about how there was no way he could even act out that kind of stuff with another boy. Hyunggu had looked so distressed – Changgu distinctly remembers the way he’d worried his lower lip between his teeth.

“And even though you already had a partner, you really saved my ass by volunteering to swap. So seriously, thank you.”

“You don’t have to thank me! He was being an idiot about it. Acting’s just acting.” Changgu smiles warmly, trying to reassure Hyunggu.

Hyunggu doesn’t meet his eyes, staring instead at his knees. He’s wearing an odd smile. “That’s right. And you really showed me your acting skills. You’d charm the pants off any girl if you said those lines to them.”

Changgu lets out a startled laugh. “No way! I can’t do that in real life. I’m pretty awkward, if you hadn’t noticed.”

“No, you’re… not really.”

“Am so.”

“Are not – but I’m not going to have this argument with you. We should probably get going, right?”

Changgu glances over at the horizon. The sun’s almost completely gone down. “Ah… yeah, we should,” he says, albeit reluctantly.

They both stand, but Hyunggu doesn’t make any move to go. He stares across the town, the sun catching his eyes and lighting them amber. He paints a striking sight, enough that Changgu feels the urge to preserve it somehow. He takes a few steps back, pulls out his phone and carefully frames a shot on the camera app. The Hyunggu on his phone glances at him.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m taking a cool photo of you. Look over there again.”

Hyunggu blinks at him, surprise written all over his face, before nodding and looking away again. Changgu takes a few photos, wincing at the obnoxious shutter sounds.

“Did they come out well?” Hyunggu asks, bounding over to him and craning over his shoulder.

“Yeah, look.” Changgu shows him. The photos are beautiful – Hyunggu’s sharp profile compliments the scenery perfectly, his figure stark against the sky that frames him. “You look really cool. Want me to send these to you?”

“Yes, please.” Hyunggu says breathlessly. “Thank you so much.”

Changgu pockets his phone and reaches out to ruffle Hyunggu’s hair. “Consider it my thanks for bringing me out here tonight. I really liked it.”

“Would you… want to come here again? Maybe one day when we have more time?” Hyunggu asks, hesitant.

“Yeah! Let’s do it!” Changgu says, smiling. Hyunggu’s answering grin is brilliant, brighter than the fiery colours in the sky, and Changgu feels the beginnings of hope stirring in his heart.

* * *

They never did go back – or, at least, Changgu didn’t. Almost immediately after his last performance in the play, his dad announced that he’d gotten a position overseas and that they’d all be moving over there for two years.

He and Hyunggu kept in contact for a few months, but one day, Hyunggu abruptly stopped responding.

They haven’t spoken since.

* * *

_Autumn, two years later_

Hyunggu’s not at school. At least, that’s what Changgu gathers after spending all morning in search of him and just getting awkward shrugs every time he asks someone if they know where he is. He gives up when the morning bell rings, hoping that perhaps they’ll be sharing a class.

But Hyunggu isn’t in any of his classes, nor is his name called on any of the rolls.

Changgu winds up spending breaks with an exchange student that shares homeroom and maths with him – Yanan. Something about meeting up with his old friends that he never bothered to keep in contact with is frankly unappealing to Changgu, and Yanan is quite possibly the most endearing person he’s ever met, so it’s a no-brainer.

“You’ve been here for a few months already, right?” Changgu asks during lunch break. “Do you know Hyunggu?”

Yanan pauses midway into biting his apple, then carefully lowers it. “Not personally. But I know about him.”

Later on, Changgu will realise that Yanan’s reluctant demeanour should’ve been the first warning sign. But, in a good mood as he is, he just starts to tell Yanan all about what a dance prodigy Hyunggu was back when Changgu used to attend the school, and how he’s been wondering what he’s up to these days.

“Changgu, I…” Yanan says, interrupting Changgu mid-ramble.

“Huh?”

“Hyunggu, he’s…” Yanan bites his lip. “Never mind. Do you want to find him?”

“Yeah, I’d like that. But it’s kind of awkward because he stopped replying to my messages ages ago, so I don’t want to look too desperate, you know? I know it’s dumb, I figure he just got busy, but…” It still stings a little. Changgu can’t deny that.

“It’s okay. I’m sure it’s not your fault.” Yanan gazes earnestly at Changgu over the top of his apple, and for a while, Changgu really does believe that everything is fine.

* * *

Hyunggu proves to be so elusive that in the time it takes to run into him, Changgu manages to secure a lead role in this year’s school musical and establish himself in a totally new friend group, made up mostly of his fellow actors. He gets along with Jinho, Hwitaek and Hyojong far better than he does with his old friends. There’s Yanan too, of course, because Yanan is Yanan.

When he asks them all about Hyunggu, he gets the same noncommittal responses everyone else has been giving him.

“Kang Hyunggu? I see him around sometimes,” Jinho tells him during musical practice, in between giving him advice on his vocal technique.

“Hyunggu… yeah, he still goes here,” Hyojong says disinterestedly through a mouthful of the candy that he’d somehow stolen off of Changgu.

“Yeah, I do know Hyunggu,” Hwitaek says, before telling Changgu he needs to go home and bidding him a hasty goodbye.

What’s oddest of all to Changgu is that people don’t talk about Hyunggu with the same respect that they’d used to. Back then he’d been undoubtedly popular, known to basically everyone in their year. Now, everyone still knows him, but they act as if they’re only grudgingly remembering and acknowledging his existence.

By the time he finds out why, autumn is fading into winter. The trees outside are barren but for a couple of crinkled brown leaves here and there that cling desperately onto their branches. When Changgu sets foot out of the school, there’s a distinct chill in the air. He watches his breath puff out before him and tugs his scarf more securely around his neck.

School just finished twenty or so minutes ago, but only a few students linger on the grounds. That’s why Changgu has no trouble spotting two distant figures near the edge of the basketball court. One of them is distinctly Yanan. He’s talking to some scruffy-looking guy in an oversized black hoodie and ripped jeans, his hands stuffed in his pockets and his chin lifted as if in distaste. Changgu frowns – is Yanan being harassed?

He hurries over, but halfway there, the hoodie guy turns abruptly as if he’d sensed him coming and Changgu stops in his tracks, jaw dropping.

It’s Hyunggu.

Changgu forces aside his gut reaction to Hyunggu’s appearance and the shuttered look on his face and smiles widely. “Hyunggu!” he calls, starting over towards them again. “I’ve been looking for you!”

Without saying anything, Hyunggu turns and walks in the opposite direction.

Changgu halts again, blinking dumbly at Hyunggu’s retreating back. He’s not going fast enough that Changgu couldn’t stop him if he tried, but… what? With narrowed eyes, he notes that there’s something off with Hyunggu’s gait – a limp, maybe?

“I’m sorry, Changgu. I found him and tried to convince him to talk but…” Yanan approaches, shrugging helplessly. His eyes are wide and full of pity.

“Why?” Changgu’s voice comes out  more controlled than he’d expected himself to sound. It’s at times like this that he realises he really is a pretty good actor.

“I don’t know, but Hyunggu’s not like how you described him. He’s pretty well-known for being a slacker who doesn’t care about anything. He ditches school as much as he can without getting expelled. That’s all I know.” Yanan touches Changgu’s shoulder, just a gentle brush of the fingers. “You’d be better off leaving him be. He wasn’t very nice to me just now and he was really rude to you.”

“Thanks for worrying, but I can’t do that. I want to know what his problem is,” Changgu says calmly, giving Yanan a practiced smile.

Yanan frowns, but nods anyway.

* * *

It’s only a day later that Changgu realises that he may have been blind to Hyunggu all along. Now that he knows to look out for a shabby-looking guy in dark clothes, he finds him lingering by a locker that’s pretty close to Changgu’s. He takes a deep breath, squares his shoulders and then approaches.

“Hey. Hyunggu.”

Hyunggu doesn’t react. Upon closer inspection, Changgu sees that he’s got earbuds in. Tentative, he edges around so he can wave a hand in Hyunggu’s peripheral vision. Hyunggu starts and gives Changgu a sideways look.

“Hyunggu.” Even if Hyunggu can’t hear him, he can see him now. The other boy says nothing, opting to simply raise an indifferent eyebrow. Changgu makes motions towards Hyunggu’s ears and, finally, with an indulgent roll of the eyes, he plucks the earbuds out.

“So, you’re back,” Hyunggu says, slowly wrapping the earbud wires around his battered-looking phone before stuffing it into the front pocket of his hoodie. His voice has deepened since they last spoke. Changgu feels an involuntary shiver go down his spine.

“Yeah.” Changgu, for once, is lost for words. Hyunggu won’t meet his eyes directly. “About yesterday – I just wanted to say hi. Why did you walk away?”

Hyunggu shrugs and looks away, opening his locker and blocking Changgu out of his line of sight. “Didn’t feel like talking.”

“Oh.” Changgu feels very small all of a sudden. _Why are you like this_ , he wants to ask, but Hyunggu is no longer the bright and open boy he used to be, and Changgu has a strong feeling that his question wouldn’t be well-received. “Um… Yanan says you ditch school a lot these days.”

“Is that the name of the guy you were with?”

“Yes. He’s a friend.”

There’s a clatter as Hyunggu rummages around in his locker. “Okay. Well, that’s not really Yanan’s business, is it? I don’t even know him.”

Changgu bites back a defensive response. “That’s just what he’s heard. Look… I’m… am I allowed to worry about you?”

Hyunggu steps back, slamming the locker shut, and turns to face Changgu squarely. “No,” he says. “You’re not.” When Changgu opens his mouth to say something, _anything_ , Hyunggu holds a hand up. “I’m going to be late to class if you hold me up any longer. Bye.”

Changgu stares after him as he walks away, and doesn’t move until the bell startles him out of his thoughts.

* * *

Changgu doesn’t know what he’d expected, really. He’d keenly looked forward to seeing Hyunggu again when his dad said they’d be going home, even if Hyunggu hadn’t bothered to send a reply to his messages in over a year. It should’ve been clear enough from that that Changgu was more invested in their friendship than Hyunggu, but Changgu’s always been too optimistic for his own good.

Honestly, he’d thought that there was something there, that day. Some small and precious thing that they could have nurtured. Had he made it all up? Had the flush on Hyunggu’s cheeks been a trick of the light from the setting sun? Had the earnest affection in his eyes just been polite respect for an acquaintance?

Had he spent two years romanticising something meaningless?  

But then again… there was the opening night to the play, too. Changgu recalls it clearly. The way he’d been shaking with nervous energy backstage after the show, sucking in deep breaths. The moment that Hyunggu poked his head around the door, having charmed his way past the backstage crew, and gave Changgu the most brilliant and encouraging grin he’d ever had directed at him. He’d approached, light and graceful on his feet, his hands tucked behind his back, and produced a bouquet of yellow flowers.

“For the future star, who did amazing tonight,” he’d said, and Changgu, all choked up, had wrapped his friend tight in a hug.

“Changgu, are you alright?” Yanan whispers from the adjacent desk. Changgu blinks rapidly down at the maths problems in the open textbook in front of him, the numbers suddenly coming into focus. Glancing at his watch, he realises he hasn’t done any work in over ten minutes now. He gives Yanan a sheepish look.

“Sorry. Just zoned out,” he whispers back.

He’ll have to try again with Hyunggu.

* * *

Hyunggu proves to be elusive again. Somehow, he’s never by his locker anymore, and Changgu has no idea what classes he even takes. He’s quite obviously being avoided. With classes and musical practice keeping him busy, he thinks he’s probably not a particularly hard person to avoid.

It’s been almost a month since he last saw Hyunggu. Changgu makes the customary trip past Hyunggu’s locker, which is deserted as per usual, and makes a note to himself that he probably needs to change up his strategy. When he’d complained to Yanan about Hyunggu’s suspicious and constant absence, his friend had suggested that perhaps Hyunggu’s found a way to swap lockers. Honestly, it’s not such a farfetched idea, Changgu thinks as he trudges off to practice.

When he arrives, everyone else already seems to be there. That is, aside from Chungha, who plays one of the lead roles – Changgu’s love interest – and is pretty essential for the scene they’re intending to rehearse today. She’s not the type to be late, so as the minutes pass and she doesn’t show, the atmosphere in the room grows increasingly awkward.

“I can go see if she’s being held up at the dance studio,” Hyojong eventually suggests.

“No, it’s okay – I’ll go. You guys go over the scene we did yesterday,” Changgu says, standing up before Hyojong has a chance to move. They can be more productive this way, since neither he nor Chungha are involved in that scene.

Changgu’s never actually been to the dance studio – it’s kind of out of the way, in a separate building from the main school building. He’s always been curious about it. When he gets there, he knocks before prising open the door, expecting to see at least a few people practicing late. But the room is deserted. The sound of the door creaking open echoes in the empty space.

Disappointed, he’s about to back out, when he notices a familiar pink and grey backpack left out on a table in the corner of the room. He’s pretty sure it’s Chungha’s – he remembers following that bag out of practice before. Not really sure of what he’s doing, he steps into the room and goes over to look at the bag. He’s surprised to note that her phone’s there too, the screen lit up by a notification. In an attempt to be conscientious, he averts his eyes from whatever’s written on the text, but he can’t help his eyes falling on her background.

It’s a picture of Chungha with her arm slung around a grudgingly smiling Hyunggu, her arm extended high to take the selfie. Changgu exhales slowly, drinking in the photo. There’s still a certain sullen aura to him, but there’s no mistaking that he’s happy to be with her.

The phone screen blinks off, and, just as it does, Changgu becomes aware of the sound of approaching footsteps.

“The hell are _you_ doing here?” Hyunggu asks, roughly grabbing hold of Changgu’s shoulder.

“Hyunggu, don’t,” Chungha reprimands before Changgu can answer. She slips past them to grab her bag and her phone, then gives Changgu an apologetic look. “Sorry. I’m really late, aren’t I?”

“Um. Just a little.” Changgu does his best to ignore the way Hyunggu’s eyes are burning into him.

“Why were you looking at her phone?” he demands.

“I just…” Changgu flaps his hands around, flustered. “I came to check if it was her bag and the screen was lit up. I swear I didn’t read anything.”

“It’s okay, Changgu, I believe you. You’re the type to stick to your morals. Hyunggu, leave him alone.”

But Hyunggu doesn’t back down even in the face of Chungha’s admonishing tone. He lets go of Changgu’s shoulder and rolls his eyes, moving to stand next to Chungha in what almost looks like a protective manner. “You’re really nosy, you know that?”

“Yeah. My parents always tell me that curiosity killed the cat,” Changgu offers, desperate not to make things any more awkward in front of Chungha. He really respects her – he’d rather not have her witness him fumbling to figure out why Hyunggu’s being so hostile towards him. He looks the two of them up and down, a tight feeling in his throat. They suit each other, even though Hyunggu looks sort of like the human embodiment of a stray dog and Chungha’s put together as impeccably as always. Plus they’re the two best dancers he knows. Why _wouldn’t_ they be together?

“Why do you look so pathetic? Are you _jealous_?” Hyunggu’s scathing voice cuts into Changgu’s musings, and he goes still, his thoughts turning to ice. He shifts his gaze to meet Hyunggu’s eyes, and, just for a moment, Hyunggu blanches at what he sees there.

“Hyunggu, what’s gotten into you? Can you lose the edgy attitude already?” Chungha pulls away from Hyunggu and grabs Changgu’s arm, tugging at him. He stumbles, too in a daze to register that she’s trying to leave. “Come on, let’s go before we’re any later than we already are.”

Changgu doesn’t take his eyes off Hyunggu until he’s out of sight. It’s only then that bitter anger hits, gnawing at him from the inside out.

The director practically yells her lungs out at him for his total inability to act out romantic scenes that day. He takes the criticisms with his head bowed and thinks of how easy it had been for Hyunggu to call him pathetic.

 _Pathetic_ , he’d said. Yes, there probably is something pathetic about the fact that Changgu’s spent two years flicking back to those photos he took of Hyunggu that day, something pathetic about the way that they’d made him feel so warm and hopeful. How had Hyunggu seen so through him so easily? How had he recognised Changgu’s jealousy before he’d even had a chance to cover it up with a carefully crafted act of indifference? Had he been aware all along of how Changgu had pathetically pined for someone that, in retrospect, he’d barely known? Changgu doesn’t know what to do. Hyunggu’s made a joke of him. He’s thrown all of his feelings back in his face and spat on them.

There was nothing for Changgu’s heart to break over, and yet, he feels the phantom ache of it, the grief settling deep in his chest.

* * *

He’s not even looking for Hyunggu the next time. The encounter happens in spite of it.

Changgu thinks he might be an idiot for choosing to spend his lunch break outside and alone in the bitingly cold winter air, but he needs the space. He hasn’t been in the right mind set for afternoon practices for days now, and it’s beginning to become a big issue. He needs to cool off – and it may as well be literal cooling off. He shivers as he walks around the school building, his footsteps crunching in the frosty grass.

He stops dead when he turns a corner and finds Hyunggu sitting against the wall of the dance studio, knees drawn up to his chest and staring listlessly at the ground.

There’s one thing that everyone who knows Changgu can agree on. His teachers, who at one point or another have all let him know some of variation of, “If I could give you an award for effort, I would.” His parents, who’ve rolled their eyes at him toiling for an entire afternoon over a knot that was unlikely to ever come unstuck and never did. His old friends, who’ve had the pleasure of defeating Changgu over and over and over in a game that he was truly atrocious at. 

When Changgu has a goal in mind, no matter how destined he is to fail, he’ll follow it through until there’s nothing more that he can do. So instead of walking away, which is probably what any sane person in his situation would do, he lets his feet carry him forward.

“What are you doing out here?” he asks, just as Hyunggu’s eyes shoot up to him.

“You again?” He lets his eyes flick sideways. “Cutting class. Doing drugs.”

Changgu blinks. “It’s break now. And… drugs?”

Hyunggu barks a humourless laugh. “Just kidding. I don’t do drugs. Not yet.” He tips his head back and it thumps against the wall behind him. “What do you want this time?”

Changgu has a million questions he could ask, most of them starting with _why_. Why are you like this now? Why do you hate me now? Why did you think it was okay to make fun of my stupid feelings for you? The questions all get caught in his throat and he continues to stare at Hyunggu, who looks increasingly unimpressed with each beat of silence.

Inexplicably, what comes out of his mouth isn’t a question at all. “We promised we’d go back to that place,” he says, voice rough.

Hyunggu’s eyes go very dark. He staggers to his feet, the motion lacking the fluid grace he used to exhibit in his every movement. Changgu doesn’t understand what’s going on until he’s being shoved with enough force to send him onto his ass, the palms of his hands scraping across rough concrete as he tries to do something to absorb the impact. He sits there for a moment in silent shock, blinking up at Hyunggu, who’s standing over him and breathing heavily.

“What the _hell_?” Changgu bursts out, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes.

There’s only one reason that Changgu can think of for this: Hyunggu’s disgusted with him. He regrets the moments they’d shared. Hyunggu _hates_ him.

Changgu slowly gets to his feet, forcing himself not to wince at the feeling of the grit stuck in his bleeding palms. Hyunggu stays silent, just watching him. There’s a dead look to his eyes. Changgu can only think that he doesn’t care about anything at all.

This isn’t worth his time.

He turns away, shoulders stiff, and takes one step.

“You’re a real piece of work,” Hyunggu says, voice low.

Changgu turns right back and punches him, dimly registering that there’s a proper technique for this sort of thing and the pain shooting up his arm means that he’s probably failed to use it. He doesn’t care. Anger’s burning him up, licking through his blood. He’s never been so overwhelmed with emotion in his life.

Hyunggu’s sprawled on the ground, moaning quietly. He’s covering his face with one arm, but Changgu can see that his teeth are grit together and that blood’s oozing from a split lip.

“What the hell’s going on?”

Changgu thinks he recognises the guy that runs past him to crouch next to Hyunggu, but he doesn’t know his name.

“Nothing. It’s nothing,” Hyunggu says, voice tight. He makes an attempt to sit up, wincing and clutching at his leg.

Changgu sucks in a breath as he recalls the way Hyunggu had been limping when he saw him with Yanan and the strange way he’d stood up just earlier. “Is there something wrong with your leg?” he demands.

Hyunggu freezes and stares up at Changgu with wide eyes. “Wait, you didn’t know?”

“Know _what_?”

“Guys… you do realise you’ve got spectators?” the familiar guy interrupts.

Changgu looks over his shoulder, his stomach sinking when he sees curious faces peering out the back windows of the school. And that’s definitely a teacher jogging down the path towards them.

Changgu’s swallows, his hands curling into loose fists. If there’s one thing he does know, it’s that fighting goes against school policies.

* * *

They’re relegated to plastic chairs outside the principal’s office after a harsh scolding from the teacher. Hyunggu sits there, silent and hunched over. His friend, whoever the guy is, had had to support him all the way here. He’s standing just outside the waiting room now, as far as Changgu knows.

“Your leg,” Changgu starts, but Hyunggu holds up a hand. He looks so tired.

“I’ll be expelled,” he says instead of replying, and Changgu’s eyes widen.

“What?”

“I was already on thin ice. Dad’s going to hate this.” Hyunggu’s shoulders are shaking. “ _God_.”

Changgu doesn’t get a chance to say anything more, because the principal’s already calling them in. He stands up and offers Hyunggu an arm, bloodied palm turned downwards. Hyunggu sucks in a shuddering breath, but he takes hold of Changgu’s forearm and lets him link their arms together.

As he helps Hyunggu hobble into the next room, he wonders if this is a ceasefire or not.

* * *

The principal’s verdict, delivered like a judge presiding over court, is as follows:

Changgu’s a good kid. The principal simply can’t understand how he got caught up in such an incident. Since physical fighting is clearly against school rules, they can’t have someone like him representing the school in the musical, not after his classmates have already spread around the video of the fight on social media. Since it’s his first breach of the rules, that will be his only punishment this time. Hopefully it will be enough to remind him to stay out of trouble.

As for Hyunggu: he’s a kid who’s been given chance after chance. The principal understands his circumstances, but there’s only so much leeway to be given. The pitiful attendance record, the previous suspensions, they all add up. Just like that, Hyunggu’s being expelled, a guilty verdict settling over him, weighting him down. Changgu sees him slump in his seat, face gone white.

The principal has the grace to look apologetic, but he doesn’t do anything else for them other than to dismiss them with the suggestion that they head to the nurse’s office. Changgu helps Hyunggu to walk again. The second the door to the principal’s office closes, Hyunggu lets out a sob.

“Hyunggu?” Changgu tightens his grip on the other’s arm, alarmed.

“I fucked it all up,” Hyunggu says thickly, roughly scrubbing at his eyes with his free arm. “I fucked everything up _again_.”

Changgu’s beginning to feel incredibly out of his depth. There’s a _lot_ he’s missing here and he doesn’t think now is the appropriate time to get Hyunggu to explain.

Just then, the guy who’d helped Hyunggu earlier appears at the door to the waiting area outside the principal’s office. Hyunggu lets out a choked noise and reaches out to him. Changgu lets him go without resistance, pressing his lips together. The two of them murmur together for a while, and Changgu hangs back, making a concentrated effort not to listen in.

“Changgu.” That’s Hyunggu, voice very quiet. There’s no edge to his words anymore. Changgu meets his eyes numbly. “This was all my fault. The play… I’m…” He squeezes his eyes shut, lower lip trembling. “I’m sorry I ruined everything, but you can still be a star.”

Changgu stiffens. He opens his mouth, but no words form on his lips. Dimly, he realises that he’s crying too.

“You won’t have to see me again,” Hyunggu goes on, voice levelling out. “If you need to satisfy your curiosity, ask Hongseok.” He gestures to the guy, who gives Changgu a measured look.

“No, wait-“ Changgu splutters, but Hyunggu shakes his head.

“Go to the nurse’s office. I need to call Dad.”

Changgu strongly considers refusing, but just then, Yanan appears at the door, spots Changgu, and promptly rushes to him.

“Are you okay?” he demands, hands fluttering over Changgu’s shoulders. His gaze runs down Changgu’s body until it settles on his palms. “Your hands!”

“Yanan, I’m fine,” Changgu tries, craning his neck to look around Yanan’s tall frame. But Hongseok and Hyunggu have already managed to leave the room.

That’s the last he sees of Hyunggu in his time at high school.

* * *

Hongseok is a nice guy.

That much is immediately evident in that he doesn’t show any sign of blaming Changgu for the fact that his friend’s been expelled, and even makes an effort to check up on him whenever they run into each other. He also somehow ends up taking Changgu’s role in the musical, apparently thanks to Jinho’s recommendation. Changgu wonders if he should resent Hongseok for that, but finds that he doesn’t have the energy to.

The winter is melting into spring when Changgu pulls Hongseok aside after school and asks him for the story behind Hyunggu.

This is what Hongseok knows:

It happened in the winter of the year Changgu left, a little over two years ago. Hyunggu had a place he liked to go to sometimes after school, though Hongseok isn’t sure where it is because Hyunggu refuses to go back. One day, he miscalculated when he was trying to climb over a fence and fell. He landed in such a way that he badly broke his leg and fractured an arm and a rib.

In pain and shock, Hyunggu called his mum, the first number on speed dial. He told her where he was and what had happened. She said that she was on her way and not to hang up.

Hyunggu lay there and listened to the sounds of his mum getting in the car and driving, constantly reassuring him that he would be okay and she was coming. He also heard, in stark detail, the crunch when she crashed into another car.

Hyunggu’s mother died that day, and Hyunggu himself was told that he would need a lot of rehabilitation to be able to dance well again. Since then, Hyunggu has been different.

“Of course he has,” Changgu says, stricken, his hands clenched into fists so tightly that his knuckles has gone white.

Hongseok levels him a sympathetic look. “There was no way you could’ve known.”

Changgu goes home that night and dreams of Hyunggu stood by the wire-link fence in the parking lot, head tipped back to look into an orange-tinted sky. Changgu runs forward to grasp him by the shoulders, but no words come out of his mouth and Hyunggu just stares through him as if there’s no one there at all.

**Author's Note:**

> My playlist while writing (in the general order of scenes):  
> \- JJ Project's 'Verse 2' album  
> \- ONF 'If We Dream' + 'Cat's Waltz'  
> \- Akdong Musician 'Dinosaur'
> 
> \- Heize's '///' album + 'And July' album  
> \- Suran 'Winter Bird'  
> \- Subin 'Hate'  
> \- Taeyeon 'I Blame on You'  
> \- EXO 'Going Crazy'  
> \- BoA 'Shattered'  
> \- Zico 'Anti'  
> \- Heize 'Star'  
> \- IU 'The Only Story I Didn't Know'


End file.
